Nonfiction
The H Word: When Danger Is Announced
In my final year of grad school, I rented a one-room apartment, and the cheeky geography of the sidewalks and hills funneled rain directly to my stoop. The first time my home flooded, it was two a.m. A puddle swelled from the crack under my front door and expanded across the entire wooden floor. The next big storm was thoughtful enough to happen in the daytime. I used my phone to record the inevitable flood for my landlady. This is how the video goes: I film my stoop. It’s bright outside, the clouds already scattering, but water threatens to spill across the threshold of my open door.